Perhaps the Last Time We Shall Speak?
by Alexis Machine
Summary: Read it and find out, would you? It contains Obi Wan Kenobi, Darth Vader, and my idea of what COULD happen in Episode III.


*George Lucas wrote Star Wars eight years before I was born, so I don't think that I had any hand in it. Too bad. Then I could get a nifty little beard like him*  
  
Obi-Wan Kenobi stood on the narrow catwalk in Coruscant. The cold wind whipped his Jedi cloak tight around him. Why was he here? He couldn't believe he'd requested this meeting. He further couldn't believe it had been granted. Could he expect betrayal? Probably. Death? Almost certainly. But he had to know. Was there a sliver of him yet in there? Could they both be redeemed? The cold, cold Coruscant wind hit him again, and he shivered.  
  
A figure clad all in black was striding out onto the other side of the catwalk, a big figure. He was at least eleven inches taller than Obi Wan, and sixty pounds heavier. Very broad and heavily muscled in his shoulders, and yet somehow twisted. As if his body had been through some terrible stress that had warped it into something alien.  
  
Obi Wan barely held back a grim laugh. This giant man's body HAD been through some terrible stress, and so had his mind. The physical stress, Obi Wan knew of all too well. He himself still felt the soreness and pain in his bones from that combat. The mental stress… had not been Obi Wan's fault, and he knew not what demons raged in his former friend's mind. He hung his head, his mild voice crackling, "Anakin, I…"  
  
A look of inexpressible rage crossed the twisted and scarred visage. His voice was no longer the measured, if intense, one it was so long ago. It was a deep, raspy basso, "Do not call me that. That name has no meaning. I am known as Vader, now."  
  
Obi Wan's fixed his eyes on Anakin's, "I will not call you by that Sith name. You are not yet damned."  
  
The eyes were truly the only thing that remained of his Padawan, and they softened somewhat, "If only you knew how closely I walk that line, Obi Wan. It is only a matter of time. The Dark Side's power is mine. Call me by my Sith name, and recognize your greatest enemy."  
  
Obi Wan folded his legs and sat, entreating Vader to attack him if he would, "I choose instead to recognize Ani, my closest friend," he smiled, "grant me audience with either." For the moment, at least Anakin won. He sat, with obvious pain that Obi Wan both saw, and felt in the Force. He grimaced, "I am truly sorry at what happened."  
  
"So am I," Anakin laughed, but it broke into a coughing fit, and sighed, "they finish a suit that will give me control of my body, soon." His gloved fingers touched the cheek that Obi Wan's lightsaber had burned, "and a mask to cover my face," he sighed, "I always wondered if I was handsome. I guess that I know now."  
  
  
Obi Wan from that moment, and through all his years of exile on Tatooine, and even when he became one with the Force, wished with every fiber of his being that the fall into the acid had slain Anakin. Had not reduced so great man into this mauled and wretched being. The being that had slain as many as Darth Skellos. He sighed, "You are still, Ani."  
  
"You were always like a father to me, Obi Wan," Anakin said, not looking up. He sighed heavily, "I want you to run. Before he returns. He wanted to kill you tonight, but I kept him out."  
  
"Who?" but Obi Wan already knew the answer.  
  
"Vader, or course. You know he captured her too?"  
  
Obi Wan's eyes widened, "Amidala? Is she…" he trailed off, afraid of the answer.  
  
Anakin shook his head, "He wanted to. Sidious wanted her dead as well. But I held them off. I smuggled her on board a freighter out of here. Take care of her," he shook his head, "I'll never see the love of my life again, and I can't cry." Obi Wan would have gone to him then and put his arms about him, safety be blasted, but Anakin stood at that moment. His eyes blazed, and he was the Jedi Knight no longer. The Sith Lord, Darth Vader, stood before him. He growled, "Go. Get out of my site," and ignited a red lightsaber.  
  
"Yes. Good bye," he stood, and walked to his craft. He climbed aboard and, sparing one last, sad look at Vader, flew off. There were only three good things in the universe right at that moment. Yoda had escaped to Dagobah. The twins were safe, and he had not killed Padme. Perhaps that mercy would allow for redemption? Perhaps it would allow for a return of the Jedi? 


End file.
